It was August 2007 last time I was here. On a spontaneous trip to catch a show by fellow musicians The Margarets, I went here two summers ago. I remember getting in in the afternoon. They were playing the Notting Hill Arts Club and I didn’t tell them I was coming. London was warm and the air filled with enthusiasm from the guys coming all the way from Norway to play in this vast city. After a delicious meal of Sushi I showed up at the door. I already liked the place since I had been there a few times watching Norwegian bands play. The reason why I was coming was my longing for this city. I had fallen in love with London by the time I left, and I still don’t understand how I can be separated. I feel alive when I come here. And I know it won’t change.
Tonight I am back at the Arts Club. I stay at my friends’, The Alexandria Quartet, house in Waltamstow, so I do hang out with them a lot while being here. And I find it quite enjoyable. They are the coolest gang of four. Of course my sound guy Harald is here making it all a bit like old times, though this trip would define the new deal, it sure is good to have members of the family with you on the road.
We party and we play Poker. Anyone could join in if you ever want to win. We tend to drop out of the seriousness of the game after a while… even though I must admit that I stayed focused on the first night and won the pot.
Just enough to pay for the Taxi after we lost the last Tube tonight.
After watching a couple of bands play, one, which was said to have the lead singer be the cousin of Osama Bin Laden and the other band being friends of the A4 we decided to go home before we had to take the night bus. Well, we almost ended up doing so if it wasn’t for the great London cabs.
By the way, the bands were mediocre. It was just about as interesting as an empty glass of beer or watching a water balloon crack towards a tower.
I had a drink of Absinth and Champagne to cheer myself up a bit. Then it was night-y-night.